


Red, Red Wine

by adjectivebear (HealerAriel)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, alcohol and awkward questions, fluffy fluff, sounds like a party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealerAriel/pseuds/adjectivebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alya Lavellan discovers that she really, really likes wine, and Solas puts her safely to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red, Red Wine

It was a peaceful night in Skyhold, so quiet and still that were it not for the occasional muffled footsteps in the tower above, Solas might have believed himself the only being therein.

Or, it  _had_  been, until a chorus of feminine giggles interrupted his reading. He looked up from his desk to find Sera and Alya in the doorway, the former half-supporting the latter, and both evidently well into their cups.

“Solas!” Alya squealed. “Solas, have you tried that sweet wine they have in the tavern? It’s  _wonderful_!”

“You’re pissed off your fucking face, elfy-tits,” Sera laughed, hugging Alya as she collapsed into giggles once more.

“Sera,” Solas said, leveling a stern look at the rogue, who responded with an eye-roll that could only be described as magnificent.

“Oh, get out of it, grandpa, I didn’t  _make_  her drink it,” Sera said peevishly. “And look: hauling her drunk arse safely back to her room.”

“I’m  _not_  drunk,” Alya protested. “I’m just—Sera, I love you  _so_  much. And, and that scout in the tavern? I hope that you—what was it again, that thing she wanted to do?”

“What, scissoring? It’s when you—”

“That will be all, Sera, thank you,” Solas said firmly, gathering Alya into his own arms. “I can take it from here.”

“Prude,” Sera said. She adopted a serious expression, waggling a finger in Alya’s face. “Right, straight to bed, then. No elven glory for you.”

Sera then  _skipped_  from the room as Alya dissolved into another fit of giggles. Solas sighed, quite certain that he didn’t want to know, and began steering Alya toward her quarters.

It was a task that proved somewhat more complicated—and, given her lack of coordination and his lack of shoes, a fair deal more painful—than he’d imagined.

“ _Ooh_ , do you know what I want?” Alya said, shortly after apologizing for stepping on his toes for the fifth time.

“More wine?” Solas guessed, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice as he guided her up the tower steps, holding her tightly about the waist lest she stumble.

Alya beamed. “Yes! It’s  _delicious_!”

He chuckled. “Do the Dalish not have wine?”

She shook her head emphatically, black curls flying wildly about her lovely face, and as he caught himself enjoying the smell of her hair a bit too much, it occurred to Solas that this might have been a bad idea.

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps that will be something you bring back to your clan.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed. She looked thoughtful for a moment. “ _Hahren_?” she said sweetly, peering up at him through her eyelashes.

“Yes?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me again?”

Solas missed the next step entirely. “Ah,” he said, desperately hoping that she hadn’t noticed him floundering to regain his footing. “Well. That is… complicated.”

“Am I not pretty enough?”

“False modesty does not suit you.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that I have yet to see you pass your reflection without stopping to admire it, vain creature,” he said, rather more fondly than he’d intended.

Alya pouted (adorably, he thought, and promptly cursed himself for it). “The Creators gave me this face. Is it bad to be pleased with it?”

“Not at all. I find the honesty quite refreshing.”

Alya seemed appeased, walking beside him in silence the rest of the way to her room. Then, “Is it because you think you’re too old for me?”

“Alya—”

“Because  _I_  don’t think you are,” she continued, allowing him to lead her to the bed and sit her on the edge of it. “And, anyway, you’re much more interesting than boys my age. Also, better at kissing.”

Solas felt the tips of his ears grow hot, and he busied himself with her boot laces to hide his flush.  _Fenedhis_ , this was absurd! He was  _entirely_ too old for crushes. “That is, ah, very kind of you to say.”

He tugged her boots off, arranging them neatly beside the bed, and fetched a glass of water from the pitcher on her bedside table. He held it out to her.

She looked mildly puzzled. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Perhaps not, but if you’ve had as much wine as I suspect you have, you will be in for a very unpleasant morning unless you drink it.”

“It wasn’t  _that_  much wine,” she said, accepting the water nonetheless. “I only had…” she looked  to be tallying the numbers in her head. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh.”

“A lot of wine?”

“A  _lot_  of wine.” She emptied the glass, and Solas filled it once more. “It’s not my fault. If you’re not supposed to drink that much of it, then they shouldn’t make it taste so good. It’s irresponsible.”

“Surely a strongly-worded letter to the vintner is in order.”

Alya pouted, and it took more self-control than Solas cared to admit not to kiss her right then and there. He settled for refilling her glass a third time.

“I don’t think I can drink any more.”

“Last one,” he promised, handing it back to her. “Then you may go to sleep.”

She regarded the glass with distaste, but obediently drained it before handing it back to him.

“Very good,” he said. He returned the glass to the nightstand and then turned back to Alya, only to find her fast asleep atop the blankets. Smiling despite himself, he took up the thick quilt that lay folded at the foot of the bed and tucked it snugly around her.

She stirred slightly. “Solas?”

“Yes?”

“You have pretty eyes.”

“As do you.” Before he could think any better of it, he’d bent and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight.”

“G'night.”


End file.
